


Mirror

by callay



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fondling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then there’s Eggsy, naked, sitting on Harry’s lap with his legs splayed awkwardly to either side of Harry’s, flushed and nervous and so, so out of place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta, [thirstforfirth](http://thirstforfirth.tumblr.com/)! All remaining problems are mine.

Eggsy closes his eyes.

He hears Harry’s voice from behind him. “ _Look_ , Eggsy.”

Eggsy shakes his head. He’s happy with his eyes shut, focused on the sensation of Harry’s body against his, Harry’s hands warm on his hips.

“Eggsy,” says Harry, stern enough that Eggsy’s stomach does a little flip and he can’t help but obey him.

He opens his eyes.

In the mirror in front of them, he can see himself perched on Harry’s lap. He can see _everything_ about himself, because he’s naked, skin flushed and getting redder as he stares at the mirror.

They’re in Harry’s perfectly appointed bedroom, sitting in a plush green armchair that Harry has set in front of the full-length mirror on the door. Most of the scene in the mirror is beautiful: the room and the chair and especially Harry, perfectly elegant even in his shirtsleeves, from his carefully coiffed hair to his black oxfords. His face over Eggsy’s shoulder is handsome and serious in that utterly Harry way, mouth drawn into a line, eyes gone dark and intense.

And then there’s Eggsy, naked, sitting on Harry’s lap with his legs splayed awkwardly to either side of Harry’s, flushed and nervous and so, so out of place.

Eggsy’s body is awash in heat, an unbearable combination of arousal and embarrassment. A blush is spreading from his face down his chest and Harry’s hands are hot on his bare skin. Heat curls in his stomach and pulses in his cock, which is hard and straining blatantly up in the mirror.

His eyes jump away from himself to Harry. Harry’s watching him steadily, eyes piercing, like he can see right to Eggsy’s heart – like he can see just how uncomfortable and confused Eggsy is at being on display like this. Eggsy’s heart lurches painfully against his ribs and he pulls his gaze away from Harry’s, dropping his head to stare at the floor.

Instantly Harry _tsk_ s in his ear and raises a hand to Eggsy’s chin, forcing his head back up. “Look,” he insists. “I need you to see, Eggsy.”

“Why?” mumbles Eggsy, staring at Harry’s hand in the mirror, curled firmly on his chin. “I can see myself naked whenever I want, I don’t see the point –“

“I need you to understand,” says Harry, voice going softer but no less intense. “You’re _gorgeous_ , my darling boy.”

“I’m not,” mumbles Eggsy, in defiance of the sudden bloom of warmth he feels at Harry’s words, like a fire kindling in his chest. He hates that he reacts like this, even though he knows it’s not true –

“Eggsy, you are,” argues Harry, left hand tightening its grip on Eggsy’s hip. His right slides down to trace the contours of Eggsy’s shoulder, the curve of his trapezius and the arch of his collarbone. “Your body is amazing.”

Harry’s hand is warm and rough against his skin, but it’s Harry’s words that send a shiver through Eggsy’s body, making him squirm in Harry’s lap. He can see his reaction in the mirror and that makes it worse, sparks more hot shame in his belly that still somehow pumps heat into his cock.

“Harry –“

“See how lovely you are, my dear boy,” says Harry quietly, hand sliding across Eggsy’s chest, carefully tracing the shape of his pecs. “You’re like a young god, Eggsy, like the most exquisite statue –“

“Harry, stop,” tries Eggsy, because that’s ridiculous. It’s ridiculous that he has to sit here and listen to this, and especially that he’s getting off on it, each word from Harry’s mouth a bright spark shooting right to the mess of hot need in his belly.

“Do you want me to stop? Doesn’t this feel good?” asks Harry mildly, and he brushes a finger over Eggsy’s nipple, just hard enough to send a tingle of pleasure rushing through him. Eggsy bites back a moan, but he can’t help the way his back arches, pushing into Harry’s touch. They both see it in the mirror, and Eggsy can see the triumph at the corner of Harry’s mouth before Eggsy even manages to grit out, “Don’t stop.”

“That’s a good boy,” says Harry, low, and Eggsy shudders at that, rocking against Harry’s lap. Harry’s cock is pushing up against him, an urgent line of heat even through Harry’s trousers, but Harry seems content to keep the full force of his focus on Eggsy, making a slow survey of the contours of his chest.

Eggsy can’t stop watching Harry’s hands in the mirror. There’s strength to them but also a delicate grace, his fingers long and elegant on the planes of Eggsy’s pecs, rubbing at his dusky pink nipples. Each touch sends a thrum of arousal through Eggsy, like a plucked string.

“Look at you, my beautiful boy,” breathes Harry, and for a moment Eggsy is almost swept away in the wave of heat that rushes over him at the words. He _wants_ to be Harry’s beautiful boy, maybe already is, whole body curving to push his chest into Harry’s touch.

He gasps out a little moan, and that’s when he catches himself, embarrassment jolting through him. He remembers – remembers that he’s Eggsy, plain old Eggsy, and this isn’t right. It’s not fair for Harry to say these things, to touch him so carefully, like he’s precious. “Harry –“ he gasps, and then bites his lip, not even knowing what he wants to say.

But Harry just presses a kiss under his ear, hot and tingling on the skin of Eggsy’s neck, and then all of a sudden his other hand slides up to Eggsy’s chest as well. And he’s got one hand on each of Eggsy’s nipples, with his arms crossed over Eggsy’s chest, so Eggsy is pressed tight against Harry’s body.

“Harry –“ hiccups Eggsy, feeling the warm pressure of Harry’s arms around him with every shaking breath –

Harry catches both his nipples and rolls them between his fingers, hard enough to make Eggsy gasp aloud, back arching, hips rolling against Harry’s lap. In the mirror he can see the sudden tense lines of his body and the way his cock jerks against his stomach.

“See?” says Harry. “Look how sensitive you are, my lovely boy, look how gorgeous. You were made for this.”

He’s playing Eggsy like an instrument, fingers rough on Eggsy’s nipples. Eggsy can see his own reactions in the mirror: the way his body tenses and rolls in time with Harry’s movements, his legs pressing close to Harry’s, his cock flushed and bobbing in time with the desperate twitch of his hips.

“What do you think, Eggsy? Do you see now?”

“I – I don’t know –“ manages Eggsy. His eyes keep catching on the way he looks in the mirror. It’s almost fascinating, the helpless grace of his movements, the way his muscles look, traced by Harry’s careful touch –

“Oh, my dear boy, it’s so obvious.” Harry slides one hand down to Eggsy’s stomach and holds him like that, one hand on his chest, the other moving slowly over Eggsy’s abs. Eggsy groans at that, Harry’s fingers tracing the dips and curves of his muscles, and his cock twitches eagerly up towards Harry’s hand.

Harry’s voice is still calm, but it’s getting a little hoarse. “Did you know I was watching you during the first test? The water in the dormitory?”

“N-no –“ Eggsy can’t take his eyes from the mirror. It’s obvious that the naked boy in the mirror is enjoying himself, open-mouthed and glassy-eyed, pushing up into Harry’s touch, and the sight of it spurs Eggsy on, like he’s caught in an echo chamber of need.

“I was watching the feed from my office.” Harry’s voice is rough in Eggsy’s ear. “When I saw you, with those pyjamas sliding off your hips, so gorgeous –“

His hands are moving in unison over Eggsy’s chest and stomach, sometimes a teasing brush that makes Eggsy squirm and gasp, and sometimes firm pressure pulling Eggsy back against the solid heat of his chest.

“I was so hard watching you, Eggsy,” says Harry, low but frank, and the words burn hot through Eggsy like a shooting star, make him grind helplessly down against Harry. “I wanted you so much, my beautiful boy, I’ve always wanted you –“

Eggsy whimpers. His own cock is flushed pink in the mirror and almost aching with need, but Harry doesn’t touch him. His hand keeps dipping to Eggsy’s hips and then sliding back over his stomach, so so close.

“Harry – c’mon –“

“Do you see, my darling?”

“Yeah, yeah,” gasps Eggsy immediately, desperate for Harry to touch him.

But instead Harry stills, hands splayed across Eggsy’s stomach and chest, and Eggsy doesn’t have to look at Harry’s face to feel the intensity of his gaze. “Eggsy,” he says, just this side of chiding, and Eggsy swallows.

And he looks at himself in the mirror.

Maybe he’s just dizzy with the lust coursing through his veins, but he looks – stunning. There’s something intensely sexual about the way he’s naked, flushed and disheveled, when everything around him is perfectly put together. It makes him feel strange and powerful, not like plain old Eggsy at all.

He’s biting his lip, and he lets it spring free, red and swollen. He hears the shudder of Harry’s breath in his ear, and an answering surge of heat runs through him. His whole body is alight, sparking with potential. Bracing himself on the arms of the chair, he grinds down hard against Harry, feeling the slow, rough drag of Harry’s cock against his ass, watching the flex of his abs in the mirror.

“Yes – my gorgeous boy, see –“ says Harry in his ear, voice low and hoarse. “You’re perfect, my dearest –“

Eggsy can’t be embarrassed anymore, he only give himself up to the hot thrill of Harry’s words. Harry’s hands slide down his stomach and clutch at his hips, hitching him even closer, and Eggsy rocks hard against him, moaning.

“Eggsy,” groans Harry, “Eggsy, beautiful boy, I can’t believe you’re mine –“

“I’m yours, Harry – please, please touch me –“ gasps Eggsy. In the mirror his cock is bobbing against his stomach, flushed and throbbing, head shiny with precome.

Harry’s hands are on Eggsy’s thighs, spreading them apart, as Eggsy squirms and pushes into his touch. He’s breathing hard in Eggsy’s ear. “I want to fuck you, dearest – I want to see you come first, but then I’m going to fuck you, so hard you forget everything, everything except you’re gorgeous and you’re mine –“

Eggsy’s already there, he’s already forgotten everything except this: his body pulsing hot with need and the image in the mirror, a wild, gorgeous boy rocking on Harry’s lap.

He whines, long and desperate, and Harry says, “Hold on –“ and wraps a hand around his cock.

Eggsy moans helplessly and thrusts up into Harry’s hand. He’s dizzy with need and Harry’s hand feels like the answer to his every prayer, tight and hot around his cock. Each slide is a pulse of pleasure, and he can’t stop himself from thrusting frantically, fucking into Harry’s grip.

“Shhh,” breathes Harry. “Slow down, my boy, slow down and look.”

Harry has been ignoring the irregular jerks of Eggsy’s hips and moving his hand at a steady pace, a slow, thorough slide up and down Eggsy’s cock. Eggsy, shuddering, forces himself to match Harry’s rhythm. It’s even better when they sync up, when each of Harry’s strokes travels the full length of Eggsy’s cock, building an inevitable rhythm. Eggsy’s already on the edge and each pull of Harry’s hand drives him closer and closer, until he’s trembling and gasping, every inch of him focused on the feeling of Harry’s grip.

It’s so all-encompassing he doesn’t even think about the mirror, but then Harry’s voice is in his ear again: “Look, Eggsy.”

In the mirror, he’s in motion, whole body rolling into each thrust, legs spread, arms braced on the chair. But his gaze goes instantly to his cock. He watches the way it thrusts up through Harry’s fist, the plump head pushing through the ring of Harry’s fingers, red and slick, and there’s something so obscene about it – about the whole image, his naked body writhing on Harry’s lap – that it’s finally too much.

“Harry –“ he manages, and then he’s coming.

He can see each pulse of his cock, painting messy stripes over Harry’s hand, and he feels the throbs of pleasure echo through his whole body. He’s moaning aloud, body shaking, but even when the waves of sensation threaten to overwhelm him, he doesn’t close his eyes.

He comes out the other side clear-eyed and gasping, trembling under Harry’s gentle hands. For a moment he sits still, waiting for his heartrate to slow down, looking at himself in the mirror.

He’s absolutely familiar, the same Eggsy he’s always known, but there’s something different about him too. There’s no hint of doubt hiding in his eyes, and when Harry smiles at him, pleased, Eggsy smiles back, with no false bravado in the crook of his lips, just genuine, complete happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [calllay](http://calllay.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
